My Last Piece of Sanity
by Emily Cha
Summary: Nightmares, lost love, lost hope. Welcome to the life of Annie Cresta. This is a one-shot of her Games as well as view of the 75th Games. Read and Review please.


**~MY LAST PIECE OF SANITY~**

**POV- Annie Cresta, Victor of the 70****th**** Annual Hunger Games**

The Games may be over, but the nightmares never seem to cease. Sometimes I wake up screaming for him to duck, but mostly I just awake to the taste of murky water in my mouth. I would think that after five years I would learn to cope and forget, but now I know that forgetting is out of the picture. I will never forget, no matter how badly I want to.

I can remember everything clearly, as if it was just yesterday. I was eighteen when I volunteered for the 70th Annual Hunger Games. If I had known then what I know now, I never would have even considered volunteering. Unfortunately, I did not know. I trained long and hard for that day, putting in endless blood, sweat, and tears. I wanted to prove to myself as well as everyone else that I, Annie Cresta could win the Games. I wanted to show my grandfather, Rola Cresta, victor of the 45th Games that I could follow in his footsteps. I wanted fame, fortune. I was nothing but a foolish teenager. That day changed my life forever. I can remember my lavender dress with white lace and matching white shoes, my long, brown hair tied back into a long braid. I remember when my partner, Sam volunteered. I can remember smiling as I then volunteered. I was proud, excited. I was stupid.

The arena that year was massive: a large, tall-grass field that held the shining cornucopia was on one side and a deep, pine forest was on the other. The whole arena was split in half by a massive river. The river had a dam on each side that was supposed to keep the water calmer. Supposed to. The only way across was by a small wooden bridge that Sam called, "blood bridge" because more people would die trying to cross that then they did the cornucopia. You could also swim, if you knew how. Most tributes, as I learned, were not strong enough swimmers. I used to love swimming, being from District 4, but now water terrifies me. I can't stand even the sight of it without breaking down.

The first day, eight died in the cornucopia bloodbath. We careers had scared the majority of tributes away. We were mean, violent, and brilliantly strong. You would think I would enjoy being with the strongest competitors in the Game, but I actually had hated it. Everyone drove me crazy. Sam did, with his over the top intelligence and the way the other girls drooled over him. I had found it disgusting. Shine, the mean girl from District 1 did, Dodge from 2, everyone. I only stayed with them for one reason and that was survival. Looking back, I wish I never even survived. It would be better, easier that way.

By the fifth day, fourteen were dead. That was the day Shine stabbed me in the shoulder. We always had our conflicts, but that day I pushed her too far. I called her an ugly hag and she lost it. She had aimed for my chest, but I was able to evade the attack to my shoulder. I kind of wish she could have gotten me after all. She had wanted to, tried to, but Sam stopped her. He ripped the knife right out of her hands and tossed her away without a blink. I was amazed, even speechless. I had never thought he would care to help me. Shine had left angrily on demand. Then Sam had bandaged my wound and gave me medicine to keep from infection.

That same day I ran away. Not just me, Sam came too. It turned out that he hated the others just as much as myself and offered to leave with me. I should have said no. He probably would have won if it weren't for me.

We spent a week in the forest together. One week was all it took for me to fall for him. The whole experience had been un real for me. I never felt for someone so strongly before Sam. He was absolutely breath taking: olive skin, curly bronze hair, eyes bluer than the sky itself, and lips that tasted of berries and pine sap.

When only nine remained, we set out to hunt our former allies. The day is burned into my memory forever. It was mid-day when we reached "Blood Bridge." I can remember the way his eyes had shone as he gazed into the sky. We headed towards out old camp in the field. We were not even twenty feet in when my shoe lace came un-done. I bent down to tie it. Then all went wrong.

"Hurry up, Annie, we got us some idiots to hunt down," he had joked. His laugh is now my most haunting memory. I had looked up just in time to see Dodge lift his axe.

"Sam…duck!" My voice had been so desperate. It was too late. The cannon fired. All I could do was stare as Sam's beautiful head fell on the ground before me with a _thunk_, followed shortly by his body. The whole image is terrifying.

I had took off and never returned. Knives flew past, but I never stopped or looked back. The others never caught up. I was always the fastest and they knew that. My life then consisted of hiding. I went "mad" as many say. I only hid, cried, and called out for my beautiful Samuel I would never see again.

Only four days later and it happened. The violent shaking had knocked me straight from my tree. An earthquake had broken out. The dam collapsed. Water, thousands of gallons of muddy water filled the arena to the brim. All anyone could do was swim.

Cannon after cannon went off daily. By the third day, it was down to only me and Shine. I should have let myself die, given up like I had wanted to badly, but I hadn't out of pride. I didn't want Shine to win…anyone but her. On the evening of the third day since the earthquake, I lost my drive to live. I stopped swimming all together. My body went under. I held my breath out of habit, but eventually gave up. Water entered my lungs and I started to drown.

"I'm coming for you Sam," was the last thing I whispered before I blacked out completely. I had thought that was the end, I was gone.

I woke up later in critical care. It turned out that Shine had drowned two minutes earlier than I. I had won. Winning wasn't at all what I wanted. Sam should have won, not me, and I knew it.

The only good thing I got out of the experience was Sam's family. His older brother cared for me. He helped me to heal as much as possible. He was also a victor, he won the 65th Games. He has the same skin and hair as Sam. Only his eyes were different. His were ocean green. Occasionally I would wake up next to him and mistake him for Sam. But he never got mad. Losing Sam was as hard on him as it was me. We both blame ourselves for his death.

I will never forget Sam and my love for him, but Sam's brother certainly helps me with it. I love him even more. So much more. But of course, I have also known him longer than I had Sam. Unfortunately, love never seems to work for me. These brothers never seem to be mine. I was reaped for the 75th Hunger Games along with Sam's brother. I couldn't help but meltdown at the thought. Mags volunteered for me, sparing my life, but his wasn't spared.

Watching them made me die even more inside. It is the first Hunger Games I bothered to watch since my own. As much as I tried to refrain from watching, I couldn't help but continue. My heart broke as he called my name in the arena, begging for my safety. I wanted nothing more than to embrace him once again and tell him I won't go anywhere. The worst part of all is that now I have no idea where he or any other tributes are. They disappeared. If he dies, so will I. How can I survive if my last piece of sanity dies?

I already lost Samuel O'Dair. I refuse to lose my Finnick, too.


End file.
